


First Light

by paperfeathers



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-09
Updated: 2014-03-09
Packaged: 2018-01-15 03:20:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1289236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paperfeathers/pseuds/paperfeathers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lucifer sleeps. Sam ruminates.</p>
            </blockquote>





	First Light

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: schmoop. Mentions of sex.

It’s morning, early enough that the sunlight falls soft and new on Sam’s face as he stirs awake. Gently extricating himself from the downy darkness of sleep into the waking world, contentment lying warm on his soul like a blanket. But after a few seconds he notices a cool weight pressing against his chest. He blinks once, twice, in drowsy confusion, before lifting his head and craning it down just so to see what the strange pressure is. What he sees makes soft surprise ripple through him.

Lucifer’s resting with his head on Sam’s chest. Ear pressed to his heart, fast asleep. His limbs are a loosely curled sprawl half-covered by the duvet, and Sam can see where his bare foot is dangling over the edge of the bed. His breathing is deep and even as it lightly ruffles the hair on Sam’s chest, cool enough to make Sam’s skin break out in goose pimples. But right now, with early morning light creeping in through the windows and an archangel curled up against his side like a large cat, Sam’s entirely too comfortable to care.

He looks so much younger, is Sam’s first drowsy thought. It’s been a year since the Apocalypse-that-wasn’t, and Sam’s seen a myriad emotions cross Lucifer’s face. Black fury and cool indifference, hollow grief and hot joy. Fragile uncertainty and love. Fierce, tender love. Only Sam ever sees the way they flicker behind cold blue eyes, the way Lucifer’s shoulders tense and ease, wings flaring and shifting unseen in the mortal plane. And he knows Lucifer wouldn’t have it any other way.  

Today is different, though. There’s a strange, unfamiliar softness on Lucifer’s face that Sam’s not sure he’s even allowed to see. He looks… vulnerable. Sam thinks, for lack of a better word. But it’s not the vulnerability of the wounded, the hurt. That, Sam’s intimately and painfully familiar with. Rather, it’s the quiet laying down of all defense, the trust of safety. The lines marking his vessel’s forehead look almost faded under the cool morning light, and where Lucifer’s skin is pressing against his Sam can feel his grace humming soft and content.

Gently, Sam rests his fingers over the curve of Lucifer’s cheek. His stubble is  rough under his fingertips, his skin cold from the grace burning beneath it. Lucifer always runs cold, but under Sam’s hands and lips he softens. And even if Sam can’t feel warmth emanating from his skin, he can see it in his eyes, in his smile, in the way he breathes Sam’s name like a prayer. Brushing the pad of his thumb down Lucifer’s cheekbone, Sam can’t help but marvel at how far they’ve come. From angel and vessel, mere tools of fate to something this inexplicably soft and deep.

Suddenly, Sam feels a quiet surge of grace beneath his fingertips. His fingers pause, his thumb carefully resting under Lucifer’s eye, close enough that he feels Lucifer’s eyelashes brush against it as his eyes flutter open. He’s groggy and more than a little disoriented, that much Sam can see. A small frown of confusion knitting his brow, but he stills when Sam smoothes it with his thumb. Lifting his eyes up to Sam’s in quiet surprise.

“Morning,” Sam murmurs, a small grin tugging at the corners of his lips. Some vestiges of confusion remain on Lucifer’s face, but as he leans into Sam’s touch Sam can feel him relax. Sighing softly and all but nuzzling into Sam’s chest before bringing his hand up to tangle his fingers with Sam’s

“I thought angels don’t sleep?” Sam asks softly, barely above a whisper. Almost afraid to shatter the fragile morning. Lucifer smiles, a soft, cool curve of lips against the warmth of his skin.

“We don’t. I must’ve been a little more tired than I thought.” He murmurs. “But considering last night, can you blame me?” The words quietly teasing and a little obscene, and Sam flushes at that and at his hazy recollections of the night before.  Lucifer’s hands on his waist, carefully restrained but still digging hard enough to leave bruises on his flesh. His lips almost burning cold as they explored every inch of him, trailing down well-known paths yet still managing to discover some sweet, sensitive spot Sam hadn’t even known about. His length inside him, thrusting deep and hard and filling him completely –

Sam can’t help it. He shudders at the heat blooming inside him, his cock twitching. He can see Lucifer’s small smirk even as he turns his head to press light kisses down his chest. But he doesn’t try to tease, and his hands don’t wander. After a few moments the heat cools down, and Sam sighs. Lucifer hums a little in response, his eyes slipping halfway shut, squeezing lightly at Sam’s hand.

 They lie still together for a few moments. Lucifer breathing in Sam’s scent and listening to the beat of his heart while Sam cards gentle fingers through his hair. The small, almost electrical pinpricks of grace makes him smile. In response Lucifer shifts a little, pressing a kiss to Sam’s Adam’s Apple before fully opening his eyes.

 “I never thought –“ Lucifer’s voice is soft and muffled against the column of Sam’s neck. He lifts his head up, and Sam’s struck by the intense yet fragile expression on his face. He doesn’t finish his sentence, but he doesn’t have to. Sam nods, burying his fingers in his hair and tugging him gently up for a kiss. 

This time it’s nothing like how it was last night. Lucifer’s kisses are always hungry and sharp. His mouth heavy against Sam’s, devouring, absolute, but with that strange trace of gentleness that’s all Lucifer. Most days it’s all Sam can do to not be devoured, eaten alive with cold grace licking him clean from the inside, torn between giving everything and surviving. Always balanced on the knife’s edge of violence, the heat of their own devotion nearly burning each other alive. But now it’s different. Soft as the morning light stealing past the motel room’s dingy windows, soft as the way Sam cradles Lucifer’s face. They’ve come a long way, Sam thinks again, as Lucifer tangles his hands in his hair and coaxes his mouth open with his tongue. Naked, with nothing between them but their own skin. No lies, no secrets. Just hard-won trust and the quiet reverence in each other’s touch.

It’s Sam who breaks the kiss first so that he can refill his lungs with air, and for all that angels don’t need to breathe Lucifer gasps shaky and ragged against his throat. But his eyes don’t leave Lucifer’s face, and before Lucifer can give voice to his question he nods. Hands reaching up, his grip shifting and tensing as he runs fingers up and down Lucifer’s sides, feeling the archangel shudder.

“I want this,” Sam murmurs. “I want _you._ I love you.” It’s the first time he ever says it out loud.

Lucifer nods, pressing his lips on Sam’s forehead, his nose, his lips, before breathing in his ear. “I love you, too. I’m yours, Sam. For always.”  

**Author's Note:**

> Don't forget to leave a review!


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